Rebellion
by Mae-Govannen
Summary: Two new Stormcloak recruits must work together, forcing them to put aside their differences in order to save captured soldiers being held somewhere in the Rift. A hot-headed Orc and an arrogant Nord getting along sounds impossible... or is it?


**Chapter 1**

* * *

A bright and beautiful sunrise streaked across the sky, illuminating the wilds of Skyrim in stunning hues of pastel blue and pink. The morning air was crisp, but not chilly. It had rained lightly during the night and now everything that it had touched was alight in a dazzling display of sparkling light as the sun rose up above the mountains. It was a serene sight, and Gerhnan might have appreciated it more if she wasn't so irritated.

"Will you _stop_ that!" She finally bellowed, and the Nord turned to her with a startled expression.

"Stop what?"

"Stop scratching your balls when I'm around!"

The surrounding nature might have been the epitome of peace, but the war going on between two Stormcloak soldiers was anything but peaceful. Gerhnan rolled her eyes as Lonas shrugged his shoulders and scratched a little longer, completely unfazed by her anger.

"You don't have them, so you don't know what it's like," he argued lightly, and then he cocked one brow with a smirk.

"At least, I _think_ you don't-"

"I don't know why it bothers you so much when there's hardly anything there to begin with."

A grin spread across Gerhnan's usually harsh features as she enjoyed Lona's infuriated reaction. His normally pale face grew red and he opened his mouth several times, struggling to speak. He had a dozen comebacks buzzing through his mind but he chose the one that would get the biggest rise out of her.

"Oh... oh yeah?"

He snorted, and then quickly stood up from his bedroll and began fumbling with the strings to his breeches.

"Care to take a look?"

It was Lonas's turn to laugh as the Orc let out a disgusted noise and turned away from him. She focused on packing up her satchel and within a couple of minutes the pair was both ready and began heading back down the hill, heading West.

How they became partnered together was a curious tale, one that Gerhnan hated passionately. She knew she'd be expected to do things she probably found unpleasant after joining Ulfric's army but she hadn't expected to be paired up with the most insufferable Nord in existence. And that was saying a lot. She found most Nords insufferable in general.

Lonas hadn't expected to be partnered with a moody, hot-headed Orsimer such as Gerhnan either. He had joined the Stormcloaks with the intention of reclaiming Skyrim back from the Imperial and Aldmeri clutches but instead he found himself doing rather menial work.

 _I suppose it could be of importance,_ Lonas grudgingly admitted as he briskly walked through the tall golden grass of the Reach.

 _But why did I have to be partnered with her?_

He was of course, referring to the silently brooding Orc who strode forward several paces away from. Gerhnan sensed his stare and she shot him an angry scowl before picking up the pace. Lonas was a tall man, even for Nord standards, but Gerhnan's height nearly dwarfed him.

He had been stunned the first time they met. Gerhnan had shook his hand with a grip like no other, and her bright red eyes burned into his with an expression of barely controlled distrust. A long jagged red scar dashed down her right cheek, disappearing somewhere beneath the collar of her tunic. She had unsettled the young Nord. He wanted a partner he could trust, and that could trust him, but with Gerhnan he wasn't so sure.

Gerhnan wasn't so sure of Lonas either. He was young, and it was obvious by his crude and often stupid behavior he had a lot to learn about war. He annoyed her endlessly almost every day, and it contributed greatly to her sour mood.

 _I'm not some fair and gentle maiden_ , Gerhnan thought angrily to herself, and she sighed. _But he needs to have some degree of manners._

Lonas was your typical Nord. He had more muscles than brains. His hair was a striking shade of orange and more often than not Gerhnan had to refrain herself from calling him a carrot. He was only a few inches taller than the Orc and their strength was most definitely on par. Gerhnan was not a small woman. She had worked hard to maintain her physique and prided herself on being a capable warrior, like the majority of her brethren.

Gerhnan reached up to fix her hair while they continued to walk, and she squinted her eyes against the bright morning light. Her hair was deep chestnut brown and was shaved on either side of her head, leaving a long flowing mass straight down her back which had been braided into a tight plait.

The end of her braid had become unraveled during her sleep and so she tugged it forward and fixed it while she walked. Lonas shot her a curious glance and said nothing but he ran his hand through his thick orange locks, wishing that he could have a nice hot bath.

They'd left Windhelm a few weeks back and had steadily made their way into the Reach hold. Both of them carried a letter within their pack containing an exhausting list of Stormcloak soldiers that were currently being held hostage somewhere in Imperial camps. It was their duty to free the soldiers with as little difficulty as possible. Neither Gerhnan nor Lonas were fond of infiltrating jobs but they had little choice. They were both new recruits and their superior had stressed to them the honour of being given such a job while being so low in the ranks.

Eventually the sun had completely risen and it was warm out. Lonas became sweltering hot inside his armour. He was a man used to extremely cold weather and so being in the Rift was like swimming in boiling hot water. He continued to plod on, matching Gerhnan's long strides, but his face was bright red from the exertion and he silently cursed under his breath every so often.

Beside him, Gerhnan was suffering slightly as well. Beads up perspiration glittered across her dark green forehead but the permanent scowl on her face wasn't because she was hot. She was used to being questioned about her facial expressions but it was just how she was.

Once again, she found Lonas glancing over at her and she finally couldn't hold her tongue.

"What are you staring for?" She snarled at him.

"Are you not burning to death under that armour?"

"No," Gerhnan growled, and then she sighed. "It's a little warm."

It was then that she noticed Lonas's red complexion. She almost felt bad for the Nord. She knew he was suffering having to wear their heavy leather Stormcloak cuirass. However, there was nothing to be done about it. They had been assigned to the Rift by Ulfric's second in command, Galmar Stone-Fist, and had had no say in the matter.

"If you can't handle it," Gerhnan continued, frowning. "Then why did you even bother coming?"

Her question struck a nerve with Lonas and he abruptly stopped walking and turned to the Orc with a scowl.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Gerhnan growled, and she crossed her arms.

"It's pretty obvious why I joined the Stormcloaks, I'm a Nord."

"Well I'm not a Nord, and I joined too. You don't hear me complaining-"

"Why the fuck did you join?" Lonas shot back, and his hands bunched into fists.

"What's it to you? Cause I'm a woman?"

Gerhnan had taken two steps forward, and they both eyed each other with haughty expressions and clenched fists.

"Woman!" Lonas scoffed, and he glanced up and down at Gerhnan with a small snort. "I wasn't even thinking that-"

"You racist bastard!"

Gerhnan roared and grabbed Lonas by the collar of his blue cuirass. She pinned the Nord against a nearby boulder and raised one hand as if to strike him. Lonas stared up at her with bright blue eyes, a smirk on his pale lips, and it was then that she felt something hard against thigh. Her angry outburst had the complete opposite effect on Lonas.

"For fucks sake," Gerhnan snarled and she quickly released her hold. "You're disgusting."

"Whatever, you're a fucking bitch."

"You-"

Gerhnan's response was quickly interrupted by a loud scream from nearby. It was the war cry of a small group of Forsworn bandits and the soldiers quickly recovered from their spat and drew their sword, rushing forward to meet them.

The bandits were brutal. Lonas was unused to fighting such enemies but he handled them as best he could. He struggled with a male bandit for several minutes, grimacing as the homemade weapon nearly grazed his shoulder. Their lack of clothing and animalistic behavior was unsettling but eventually he was able to find a weak point and he slashed his sword across the bandit's chest. He leapt back as blood spewed out from the fatal wound and when his enemy had collapsed on the ground, dead, he turned around to see Gerhnan in her glory.

Something about the way she fought took his breath away. He has witnessed her during the course of their trip but it never failed to impress him. She fought with such grace he didn't know Orcs could possess. She was brutally strong with her strikes but her feet moved like she was dancing and within minutes she had tackled two of the Forsworn bandits on her own.

There was silence all around them except for their light pants for air. Gerhnan wiped the blood from her face, her chest heaving, and a grin was plastered on her face. She loved to fight. She was practically born with a sword in her hand and she thrived off of the feeling it brought her when she was faced with an enemy.

She was almost pleasant towards Lonas as she reveled the aftermath of her adrenaline rush. Almost. When she looked over at the Nord she couldn't help but think about their fight just before and it completely soured her mood. The smile faded from her face and she quickly knelt down and checked the bandits for any valuables. Lonas silently followed suit and when they were finished the pair continued making their way North in uncomfortable silence.

The two soldiers continued their trek, only stopping once around mid-day to eat a few strips of jerky and drink from their waterskins. Eventually It grew too dark for them to continue and so they found a sheltered area of large rocks and one scraggly tree to settle down for the night.

It was severely uncomfortable to be in close proximity to Lonas after their heated argument earlier in the day. A part of her wanted to take off and try to do her job solo, but she knew that wasn't the right idea. She was beyond frustrated and didn't understand why the Nord made her so angry. Even if his jabs were teasing most of the time it didn't make her laugh or joke back.

Lonas stared quietly at the small fire Gerhnan had made, his thoughts far away. For weeks they had quarreled almost every day, and it was beginning to drain him. He knew that they couldn't continue as they were. He'd either choke Gerhnan out for insulting him or his manhood one too many times or he'd get his ass beaten for insulting her race. Either way, the future looked grim.

 _I feel like we got off on the wrong foot_ , Lonas thought to himself with a small sigh.

He plucked at the long strands of grass from the ground and tossed them up in the air, feeling tired.

 _It was just an accident but I've been paying for it ever since..._

The memory of their first encounter appeared in his mind and he grimaced at the thought. He hadn't meant to offend Gerhnan so badly but he had been pissed drunk that night, and he had apologized profusely for at least a week after it happened.

The Nord remembered it clearly, for her rage had been a terrible sight to see, even in his inebriated state. He had returned to their room after a long night of celebrating with all the other recruits that had been accepted into the Stormcloak army. He had also drunk far more mead than ever before, since it was his first time being alone.

Lonas had left his parent's farm in Whiterun at the ripe age of nineteen and quickly traveled to Windhelm to pledge his allegiance to Ulfric Stormcloak. He had been enchanted by the snowy city and the patriotic spirit of Ulfric's army. Despite the surprise he had felt when the young man had first met his intimidating partner, he remained positive and excited for their upcoming trip.

That had all been soured when a critically drunk and stumbling Lonas somehow managed to get the door open and he fell into the room, nearly landing on his hands and knees. Somehow, he remained standing, and when his eyes landed on Gerhnan's naked form his bloodshot eyes widened in surprise.

What Gerhnan didn't know was that the Nord had found Gerhnan's body stunningly attractive. He had only gotten a glimpse before he was quite literally thrown out from the room by the enraged Orc, but what he had seen had stirred something inside of him. He had little to no experience with women, having lived on his family's farm his entire life, almost completely isolated from the rest of the world.

He had been so turned on by Gerhnan and a part of him subconsciously enjoyed getting a rise out of her. If he got the Orc going she'd often grab him and he was always thrilled by the physical response.

But Gerhnan was almost at her wits end. She had never forgiven Lonas for walking in on her as she was undressing and the unpleasantness of that encounter still lingered to this day.

Lonas glanced over at Gerhnan and his eyes roamed over her features, soaking her in. She sat cross-legged on her bedroll and was lost in thought. She glumly stared at the fire, but she wasn't really looking at it. She was tired from walking endlessly through the Rift but anxious to reach their first Imperial camp so they could begin rescuing hostages.

She was unaware, this time, of Lonas's gaze. He liked the deep green tone of her skin as it glowed from the light of the fire. Her eyes were almond shaped and blood red in color. She had small, pointed ears and one of them had been pierced. What looked like some sort of animal tooth hung down from a small silver ring and it trembled when she moved.

Gerhnan's arms were thick, lending to her incredible strength when she swung her Orcish sword. Her muscles rippled as she crossed her arms together and rested them against her knees. She sighed, still oblivious to Lonas's observation.

His gaze lingered on her mouth. She had two small tusks that glowed bright white. One of them was chipped while the other completely intact. What interested him the most was her full, plump lips. Lonas hadn't met very many Orcs, and even less ones that were female, but he thought Gerhnan was beautiful.

After studying Gerhnan for a while, he finally admitted defeat. It was time he grew up a little and try to get to a place where they could stand to be around one another without getting into a fight.

"Gerhnan?"

The Orc blinked, and she glanced over at Lonas's pale face. She'd never really been attracted to Nords, but she could admit, if only to herself, that he was handsome. He had a strong, square jaw and full, pink lips. His blue eyes were probably her favorite feature if she had to choose. There were also freckles dotted along his nose and cheeks that she hadn't really noticed until now. A light brushing of stubble was starting to form and Gerhnan wondered briefly what he would look like with a full beard.

Lonas peered across the fire at Gerhnan with a confused expression, wondering why she stared at him. She finally shook herself from her stupor and grunted a response.

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

At first, Gerhnan didn't know what to say. The way Lonas was looking at her made the Orc feel uncomfortable, and she wondered why he asked her that specific question.

"I... I don't hate _you,_ " she growled, shrugging. "I hate the way you behave with me."

"I know I'm an ass," Lonas sighed. "This is the first time I've ever been on my own, but I know that's not an excuse."

Gerhnan was confused. She didn't understand why Lonas was talking to her about himself. She hadn't shown him any interest before, but he offered the information up anyways."

"I'm sorry for treating you so terribly."

Lonas wanted there to be peace between them. Maybe not friendship, if that was too much. But they were partners in arms, and he needed to be able to trust Gerhnan with his life. Gerhnan was stunned, and as the silence went on the young Nord became a bit concerned.

"I-I'm also sorry for that night," he continued hastily, nervously rubbing his neck. "I'd never drank so much in my entire life-"

"Apology accepted," Gerhnan responded quickly, feeling her cheeks grow warm. "I... I'm sorry I insulted you as well."

The last thing she wanted was to rehash what had happened the night before they left Windhelm. It was a memory she wished she could wipe from her mind, and his. Lonas seemed to sense it, and so he quickly skipped to the next topic.

"I want us to get along or uh... be civil. We're going to be out here for a long time together."

Gerhnan hadn't expected Lonas to completely turn things around. She was slightly skeptical of it all, but also impressed. She wanted to be able to trust Lonas to have her back, and so she found herself nodding while he spoke.

"I know you think I'm just a dumb kid, but I've been working really hard to get to this point."

A light, cool breeze drifted across the landscape. It played with their hair and clothing as the pair sat on their bedrolls, staring at one another.

"I'm sure you think I'm just an old, angry hag, but I've also worked very hard to get to this point."

"I don't think you're old," Lonas laughed, and then he frowned. "Wait... I don't even know how old you are..."

Gerhnan sighed, and she pursed her lips for a moment.

"Twenty-four summers."

"You're not old at all."

"Older than you," Gerhnan growled. "You should respect your elders."

"I will... I will."

Lonas leaned back on his bedroll so he was laying down. He stared at the fire for a moment, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. The tension between them was almost completely gone, but there were still a few more questions.

"Gerhnan?"

"Yeah?"

Her tone was less angry this time, which Lonas was grateful for.

"I'm curious... why did you join the Stormcloaks?"

"I wanted to leave my Stronghold and do something with my life. It made sense to pick a side and fight, since it's what I do best."

"You are incredibly talented."

Once again Gerhnan found herself blushing, though Lonas couldn't tell in the darkness.

"I uh, just decided to join the Stormcloaks because it made sense. People should be free to worship whoever they want."

"Aye, I agree."

"That and... I fucking _hate_ the Thalmor."

Lonas laughed. The sound echoed all around them, and it was contagious. Gerhnan couldn't help but smile. She also felt lighter than she had in the weeks since meeting her partner. She wanted them to work together. She knew that they could not be successful in their campaigns unless there was effort from both sides.

Eventually Lonas closed his eyes and Gerhnan took first watch. She watched the Nord as his body started to relax. A while later his snores drifted over to her and he did not stir until later in the night when Gerhnan woke him up for his turn to watch.


End file.
